


let your heart decide

by ariadne_odair



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur might have some ideas on how to make it better, F/F, Female Arthur, Female Merlin (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, Merlin is having a Bad Day, Pining, a lot of pining, bickering whilst tending to bruises, they're girls in this cause.. i said so and also because i'm very bi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:28:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27192427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariadne_odair/pseuds/ariadne_odair
Summary: “Are you sulking?” Arthur asks lazily. Merlin doesn’t even have to look at her to know her mouth is curved into a smirk.“No,” Merlin lies, before slamming Arthur's breastplate down on the table.-Merlin is having a terrible day. Admittedly, Arthur is the least terrible part of it.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 62
Kudos: 213





	let your heart decide

Merlin’s day is going terribly.

Currently, there’s no indication it’s going to get any better.

To start with, Gaius had barged into her room at the crack of dawn, blathering on about the state of his leech tank. In response, Merlin had told Gaius exactly where he could shove his leech tank. (Though, admittedly only once he'd left the room. Gaius may pretend to be a doddery old man, but he has the ears of a _bat_.)

Then, Arthur had announced they were going hunting. Merlin, blindsided by the sight of Arthur in riding leathers, has been too distracted to put up a fight and found herself traipsing through the forest before she knew it.

Gwaine and the others are used to Merlin donning a tunic and leggings when she rides with them. But there had been a new knight today and he clearly wasn’t. He’d sniggered for a good minute, until Merlin had snapped and asked him if _he_ wanted to demonstrate how easy it was to ride in a dress and petticoats.

Miraculously, he’d stopped laughing after that.

(No one in Camelot baulks at Arthur in her riding gear anymore. She’s been wielding a sword since she was seven after all, though Merlin knows they used to. Plenty of visiting nobles still gape at her, especially those from more ‘traditional’ kingdoms. Arthur beating them into the dirt often has the intended effect of closing their mouths.)

The last straw, however, had been her horse spooking a few minutes later and sending her toppling to the ground. At least there’s not much of this wretched day to go. It’s almost dark, the candles flickering in Arthur’s chambers, Arthur lounging on her bed as Merlin cleans armour.

“Are you sulking?” Arthur asks lazily. Merlin doesn’t even have to look at her to know her mouth is curved into a smirk.

“No,” Merlin lies, before slamming a clean vambrace down on the table.

“I thought you were,” Arthur concludes. “Is it because Gwaine laughed when you fell off your horse?”

“You laughed too!” Merin snaps.

“Only after I’d checked you were okay!” Arthur protests. “Do you want me to make him run extra drills tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Merlin says sullenly, and Arthur laughs, loud and easy, the way she only does when they’re alone.

“It was a pretty spectacular fall.” Arthur tilts her head to one side. “Is that why you’re walking with a limp?”

Merlin rolls her eyes. “No, Arthur, that’s from all the men I’ve been bedding.”

Merlin had only been joking - honestly, she doesn’t have time to nap, let alone get a leg over - when a strangled noise from the bed surprises her.

Arthur in the candlelight is a dangerous luxury; loose nightshirt that’s wide at the collar, her mother’s ring nestled in the hollow of her neck, full mouth soft and slightly parted. At the moment, there’s a sweet blush spreading over her cheeks. She ducks her head, casting her gaze away.

Merlin, for no discernible reason, blurts, “I’m not actually bedding anyone.”

Arthur turns even redder if possible, and grits out, “I didn’t actually ask, Merlin.”

It’s Merlin’s turn to flush. “Oh.”

There’s a strange tension building as neither of them look away, a hot rush in Merlin’s stomach. That’s the other dangerous thing about candlelight - it causes all the lines and edges between two people to blur. Especially lines that were never particularly defined to start with.

Arthur is the first to break gazes, reaching for something on the bedside table. “Gaius said you’re to put this salve on the bruise.”

Merlin swallows, mouth strangely dry. “Why didn’t he tell me that?”

“Because he knows you’d lose your head if it wasn’t screwed on, let alone a small bottle of salve.” Arthur uncaps the vial. “Come on, I’ll do it.”

That tension is uncoiling again. Merlin’s breath hitches as she gingerly sits on the edge of the bed in front of Arthur. The bruise is on her lower back, so she pulls her tunic up above her stomach.

Behind her, Merlin hears the quiet snick as Arthur uncaps the vial. Her stomach flutters as there’s a heartbeat, then Arthur’s fingers skate over her skin. Her fingertips are gentle, but sure, as they slowly rub in the salve.

Arthur’s hands are calloused from years of wielding a sword; Merlin tries very hard not to think about those hands on other parts of her body.

“Merlin, your bruise is the size of my _fist_ ,” Arthur observes, the exasperation in her tone belayed by the clear thread of fondness. “How did you even manage that?”

“It’s not as though I fell off my horse on purpose! I didn’t ask that bird to burst out of the bush, did I?”

“Only you,” Arthur snorts. “There. Does it still hurt?”

Merlin huffs, her skin cool as Arthur draws her touch away. “Yes, but it’s not like I should have expected anything different. This whole day has been rubbish.”

She turns, tugging down her shirt, only to still as she comes face to face with Arthur. Suddenly all the space between them has dwindled; they’re so close that Merlin could count the handful of freckles scattered over the bridge of Arthur’s nose.

Arthur wets her bottom lip, before murmuring, “Is that right?”

Merlin’s breath hitches, but the hopeful look in Arthur’s eyes has her gathering her courage. “I - I can think of something that could turn it around.”

It’s not clear who moves first; perhaps both of them, their mouths meeting in a rush of movement. The kiss is slow and sweet. Arthur’s mouth parts under Merlin’s, sending a shiver down her spine.

They kiss until their lips are swollen, until Merlin’s toes are curling in her boots and their breathing is ragged. When they finally break apart, Arthur’s hair is escaping from its braided crown and Merlin is halfway into her lap.

“Any better?” Arthur pants, arms circling Merlin’s waist.

“There’s always room for improvement,” Merlin breathes, and laughs as Arthur pulls them down onto the bed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this! If you want to skip my obligatory rambling chapter note feel free too now lool
> 
> I love love love writing f/f stories. if you've read some of my other stories in other fandoms, you'll know it's one of my favourite things. i love our boys, but as a bi woman... sometimes you have to project onto your fave fictional characters... oh to be a maid pining for a crown princess who secretly loves me back
> 
> this is a little different for me as i havent written a one shot - as short as this anyway - for a long time. i have a lot of ideas for more female!merthur aus including: we hate each other but are forced to share a tent as our mutual friends have invited us camping. (spoiler - gwaine was sharing with merlin originally but bailed to get into percival's sleeping bag)
> 
> it always feels slightly more personal to post f/f stories, so i am a little nervous right now! hopefully people enjoy


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